


Maple Red

by enkelimagnus



Series: SH Sapphic Ficathon Prompts [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Canon Universe, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Power Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: Isabelle is asked to attend the Seelie Queen during her bathing ceremony. Turns out there is something that happens when you wash a queen's body, and Isabelle finds herself falling into a pit of confusing, but arousing, feelings.
Relationships: Isabelle Lightwood/Seelie Queen
Series: SH Sapphic Ficathon Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574311
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: shadowhunters sapphic ficathon





	Maple Red

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the "Flowers" prompt from week 2 of the Shadowhunters Sapphic Ficathon by @shsapphicfics on twitter
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fun little pairing that I've been wanting to write for a while now!

Isabelle doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the profusion of flowers in the Seelie Court. 

They snake out onto every wall, onto vines and into corners, onto the cracked floor and the gaps of the ceiling of the bedroom she’s been given. The Seelie Palace is hidden into the forest, and Isabelle doesn’t know where it ends and where it begins. She’s walked through countless rooms before, not knowing their purpose or that they were rooms. 

This time, she knows she’s in a very specific chamber. The door she went through was massive, dark wood sculpted like lace in a way that she can only describe as magical. Petals litter the floor of the chamber. 

They crunch under her feet as Isabelle is lead deeper into it, through curtains of vines and of thin veil-like diaphanous fabrics. The Seelies around her are incredibly light-footed. She feels graceless by their side. She’s not used to feeling this way. Usually, she’s graceful on top of high heels walking around the Institute. 

The Seelie in front of her stops before pulling back the last curtain, this one thick and forest green. She’s is small, dark-skinned, with the rose flower of the Seelie Queen’s maids blooming on her temple. Her hair is braided in a specific way as well. Isabelle doesn’t know all of the symbols that every Seelie seems to wear. She knows enough though, to have been able to recognize the woman as an Attendee of the Queen when she came to get her from her bedroom. 

“The Queen is ready to see you, Isabelle Lightwood,” the Seelie says to Isabelle. “She’s requested your presence for her bathing ceremony. It is a great honor for anyone, Seelie or stranger, to attend to her.” 

Isabelle nods, quietly. “What do you mean by ‘attend to her’?”

“You shall soon find out, Isabelle Lightwood.” 

She pulls back the dark curtain and Isabelle blinks as she walks into the last, most private, part of the chamber. 

In the center of stone floor veined with roots is sitting a big, beautiful bathtub. It’s made of polished grey stone, carved in a deep pod shape. Seelies Isabelle doesn’t know carry buckets of hot water to it, filling it. 

The only light comes from candles that have been disposed all over the room, the golden light flickering at the same rhythm as their flames. 

There are very few people in the room, Isabelle, a couple of attendees and guards, and the one that lead her into the room. She is made to stand in front of the bathtub. 

The Seelie Queen is laying in the steaming hot water, eyes closed. Isabelle wonders if she’s asleep. The Queen’s hands are curled over the edge of the tub, her entire body disappearing under the milky surface of the bath water. Isabelle can see the top of her breasts rising as she breathes. 

Her dark hair is held up into a complicated updo that allows them to keep it dry. She’s not wearing her usual crown. She’s wearing nothing but a necklace that nestles right between her breasts. Isabelle swallows. The Queen is gorgeous, pale skin and languid breathing and tantalizing body. Isabelle knows that the Queen chooses her appearance to her will, and often, her forms are chosen for specific purposes. Today’s purpose seems to be being attractive.

The attendees grab Isabelle’s hands, run hot water over them to clean them of dirt. Nibble hands take hold of her hair and put it up in a much simpler bun than the Queen’s.

“You will wash the Queen in her bath and care for her how she desires. Then you will help her out of the bath and into a robe,” the attendee in front of her explains. “Next to the bath are the things you’ll need.”

Isabelle nods. She’s vaguely heard of bathing ceremonies in the Seelie Court. She’s never seen one. 

She has to be careful of how she sits next to the bathtub, she realizes. She’s wearing one of the Seelie gowns that she’s found in the wardrobe of her room when she moved in. It’s a flowy powder pink slip dress with many embroidered flowers and plants and lace inserts. It is almost see-through in how thin the fabric is. The straps are spaghetti thin and it falls over her body loosely enough to be comfortable, but tight enough that the motions of her bodies are clearly discernible under the satin.

Isabelle looks at the relaxed face and the closed eyes of the Queen and looks back at the attendee. “Is she asleep?” 

“She’s resting,” the attendee replies, and it seems like it does not mean the same as being asleep for seelies. “Now, go wash her, Shadowhunter.” 

“I will bother her,” Isabelle replies, hesitating. 

“You will not. Go now.”

Isabelle kneels down by the tub’s side, pulling her dress up a little so it doesn’t get stuck underneath her knees. She takes the sponge in her hand. 

She gently takes the arm of the Seelie Queen and starts running the soapy sponge over her skin. The Queen hums under her breath as Isabelle washes her right arm first, gentle and careful not to touch her or move her too much. 

The Queen’s skin is soft, incredibly so, and Isabelle has to keep herself from touching it more than necessary. She lets go of her hand, and moves to the other side, repeating the action on the left arm. 

How much of the Queen’s body is she supposed to wash? Only the parts over the water? She looks up at the attendee from beforehand, but the Seelie’s eyes don’t tell her anything she needs to know. She sighs. 

“Is something bothering you, Shadowhunter?” The Seelie Queen asks. 

Isabelle freezes. She’s been around the Queen and has heard stories about her enough times to know that annoying the Queen in any way can be quite painful for whoever is the poor soul to commit the act. She doesn’t want to end up in the Wander Woods for the next few months. Or worse. 

“Nothing, my Queen,” Isabelle lies and re-washes the left arm.

The Seelie Queen opens her eyes and looks at her, an amused smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are green and piercing. “You’ve washed my arm before.” 

“I have… I…” 

The Seelie Queen has a small chuckle and moves. Isabelle shifts back for a second. The Queen sits up and forward, her hands moving forward on the sides of the bathtub. “My back, Shadowhunter.” 

Isabelle swallows. She dips the sponge in the water and starts washing the Queen’s back. There are the same golden vines growing over her skin in a barely sensitive way. Isabelle cannot resist the urge to brush her fingers over them. She’s always liked feeling the plants and flowers that grow over a Seelie’s body. When she slept with Meliorn, she could spend hours tracing the vines down his body. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” The Seelie Queen asks. 

“I’m sorry,” Isabelle whispers. She’s not one to be so… gravely with someone, to be so submissive to them, but the Queen has this kind of aura. And she has a reputation. 

“Don’t be,” the Queen replies. “I know the temptation.” 

Isabelle looks at her distorted reflection in the water of the bath. Her hair is dark and falling out of its bun a little. She looks rosier than usual, but it’s the air of the Seelie Court that gives her that pink glow. 

The Queen moves back when she deems Isabelle has washed her back enough. She pushes her chest forward a little, and her change of position means her breasts are now pushing out of the water’s surface, the milky liquid lapping at the mounds. 

Isabelle guesses that the Queen wants her to wash her chest but she hesitates. She’s not one to be uncomfortable around bodies, but caressing the Seelie Queen’s breasts is not something she was expecting to have to do. She slowly starts with her collarbones, running the sponge over them, then moving lower, sliding it over her cleavage.

She tries to look elsewhere but cannot. Her eyes keep darting back to the Queen’s breasts, the nipples tightened by the colder air, the necklace that’s resting right over the cleft there. She stops before she can reach them.

The Queen grabs her wrist. Isabelle gasps, and looks up at the woman. Her green eyes are impatient as she guides Isabelle’s hand to her chest herself. She guides her down lower, and Isabelle can only let herself be led through the motions of caressing the Seelie Queen’s perky breasts. 

She bites her lips despite herself. The strong hand on her wrist, the beautiful, round, perky, pale breasts rising with the rhythm of the Queen’s breath, the satin of the Seelie gown over her own skin, the candlelight and the smell of roses and lavender that follows the steam of the bath, it all forms a picture in Isabelle’s head that makes her… 

She shifts a little in place as the Queen guides her hand a little lower, below her breasts and into the water. For a second, she believes that the Queen is going to make her touch her genitals, and it makes heat rush to her groin. She’s getting wet, she realizes.

The Queen lets go of her hand. “That’s enough now.”

Isabelle swallows thickly and moves back. 

“Help me out,” The Queen orders and Isabelle nods. 

She shifts, gently grabs the Queen’s left hand, and slowly gets to her feet. The Queen stands from the milky water, entirely naked, dripping wet from her bath. Rivulets of the colored water drip over her skin, and Isabelle’s eyes unwittingly follow one that drips between her breasts and down her toned stomach. She manages to look away when it reaches her groin. 

Isabelle and another attendee help the Queen out of the tub itself, and Isabelle is given a cloth. She stands in front of the naked, dripping body and takes a deep breath. She starts drying the Seelie Queen, the cloth not thick enough for her not to feel the bumps and ridges of the absolutely gorgeous body in front of her. 

The Queen’s eyes stare right at her, her lips parted slightly, plump and pink-red. Isabelle dries her front, trying to avoid the hard nipples as much as she can, and walks around to dry her back. That’s much easier, she thinks to herself. She doesn’t have to deal with the gorgeous white skin of her breasts that her traitorous tongue wants to taste. 

Isabelle kneels, dries her legs and her ass. She stands back up and walks back in front of the Seelie Queen. She’s smiling at Isabelle, and waiting for her to finish the drying. Isabelle licks her lips and gets on her knees. 

Kneeling in front of the naked body of the Seelie Queen, the woman’s gaze firmly on her, hands reaching to dry up the most intimate parts of the Queen’s body, Isabelle can hear her heart pounding in her head. She feels the heat of arousal curling in her groin and she knows she’s getting wetter. She’s never felt like this before. 

She dries her legs and her thighs, reaches up to the dark red curls and runs the cloth over them. The Seelie Queen barely even shudders at the touch. Isabelle feels small, and human, and faillible, aroused and clothed next to that naked goddess who barely blinks when being touched.

Isabelle manages to get back to her feet and she’s given the Queen’s robe, a dark red, lacy and detailed gown that laces loosely at the front. It’s beautiful, and it looks gorgeous over the pale skin and the golden flowers of the Queen. 

She stands in front of her, sliding her arms through it before lacing the three ribbons at the front carefully. The Seelie Queen’s smirk has turned into more of a smile now. She looks relaxed and content, and she turns to the rest of the attendees. 

“I will now go to my bedchamber,” the Seelie Queen announces. “Do not bring my companions. I have already made my choice.” She turns back to Isabelle, who is still standing behind her. “You will follow me, Shadowhunter.” 

Isabelle follows the Queen outside of the bathchamber, through another pair of massive doors. The other room they walk into is not that different from the one they just left, except for the bed that replaces the bathtub in the center of the room. 

The candles, the attendees, the guards, everything else remains the same. 

The Seelie Queen reaches over to Isabelle. She stands in front of her, her hand going to caress her cheek in a motion that Isabelle truly did not anticipate. The green eyes of the woman stare right into hers and Isabelle’s heart pounds harder in her chest. 

“Will you spend the night in my bed, Isabelle?” The Seelie Queen asks quietly. 

Isabelle doesn’t know what to reply for a short second. The Queen is gorgeous, attractive, someone that she is attracted to like a fly to honey, and she wants to stay close, bask in the golden light of the Queen’s aura for longer. But this is… the Seelie Queen. No matter how attractive and fascinating, she’s… the ruler of an entire species, she’s the guardian of secrets older than time. And she is ruthless. 

The Queen’s hand on her cheek is soft. Isabelle breathes out softly. She feels safe, right now. She doesn’t feel… bad about anything. 

“You can say no,” the Seelie Queen adds. “I want you to desire this. Nights with me are much better if you desire them, and you have done nothing to warrant a punishment of any type.” 

Isabelle trusts her word, even if her brain screams she shouldn’t. 

“I will stay.” 

The Seelie Queen grins and leans forward, kissing her deeply. Her hand stays on Isabelle’s cheek, guiding her gently. Isabelle’s eyes flutter to a close. 

The kiss is sweet to the tongue, in a way that she cannot understand. She knows Seelie kisses are sweeter than other ones, from kissing Meliorn too many times, but she’s not expecting the wave of softness and sweetness and desire that washes over her. 

Oh, Angel, yes. She made a good choice. 

The Seelie Queen guides her back to the bed, and gently shoves her on it. Isabelle’s back hits the mattress and she reaches for the mostly naked woman that’s looking down at her, hunger in her eyes. 

“Everyone out!” The Queen orders before she smirks down at Isabelle and kisses her again. 

Isabelle kisses her back, hands lost in the mass of maple red hair on the Queen’s head. This is the first time she’s going to have sex with a woman. If she sleeps with another after this, they will have the Seelie Queen to be compared to. Isabelle can’t help but pity them. She can feel this night will be the best in her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
> I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


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